Mary Murphy Poet Rhyme

Did You Know Eyes Have Mouths?

At her fifth birthday party,
She loved tiny tales.
A bookworm smartie,
Unfurling imagination sails.

When she was older,
She could not sleep.
Her hands, a bookholder,
Instead of counting sheep.

Snuggled in bed,
With another adventure,
Hallway light behind her head,
Illuminating the treasure.

Read the classics,
And about mysteries of crime.
Keeping genre more elastic,
Enlivens the climb.

She hated suspense.
She could not wait.
She felt too tense,
Not knowing her fate.

When her own space
Was on another floor.
She still had foes to face,
Whether in or outside the door.

Now adult of age,
Read at her leisure,
Another turn of the page,
Time remains at her pleasure.

New book released,
She goes to the store,
She has to feed the beast,
Or her longing would be more.

She loves to read,
She can go somewhere new,
Wherever plots lead,
Perspective imbue.

Reality can confine us.
Books hold pages, too.
We remember thus,
To our own story be true.

To the library we go,
To read tomes for free,
Whatever words echo,
Against the reality we see.

If libraries went away,
There would be riots in the street,
Organized to say,
“Let the eyes eat.”

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